


23 - Wedding Wings

by distantstarlight



Series: 31_Days_of_Porn_Challenge_2017 [23]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 31 Days of Porn Challenge 2017, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angel John, Day 23, Demon Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Magical Realism, Priest or Religion, celestial sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 05:04:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10983927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distantstarlight/pseuds/distantstarlight
Summary: In the world, there are three kinds of beings, angels, demons, and humans. All of them live together, bumping shoulders and getting on with their day. Celestial folk look just like regular people except for their wings. Angel wings are bright and demon wings are dark, that’s just how it is.John is an angel who finds himself trying to catch the eye of a demon who theoretically should be completely repelled by him. Instead, the demon invites John to live with him on the mundane plane.





	23 - Wedding Wings

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't very comfortable doing something touching on religion so I dug through my old notes for an idea. A million bajillion years ago Ravenclaw_with_a_TARDIS left a comment on a story I wrote and accidentally typed "wedding wings" instead of "wedding rings" and that spawned a fic idea that has sat there untouched probably for two years.
> 
> Here are my notes:  
> "for a funny mention “wedding wings"
> 
> UPDATE: ghislainem70, author of the insanely good "Omega Sutra" made this incredible graphic for me and I am STILL IN SHOUTY MODE. ITS BEEN HOURS, Thank you <3 <3 <3 <3 
> 
> And that was it. Here is what happened...

 

John sensed him the second he stepped through the door. _Demon_. The humans were still speaking and John allowed his flesh to respond appropriately but all his higher senses were probing and examining the entity in front of him, his dark energies radiating out and invading the burst of light that shielded John. When the demon asked to borrow a mobile John stopped the trickster by offering his own. _Were people so naïve as to give a demon one of their personal possessions?_ “Afghanistan or Iraq.” asked the demon.

John was intrigued. Most demons could barely tell one human from another and apart from Pets most celestial wanderers paid no attention to their father’s children. “Excuse me?”

The demon smiled and John drew closer. The creature rattled off a string of observations then sat back, nearly preening with typical pride when John reacted with amazement. It was astounding. _What kind of demon was this? So many of them were brutish thugs, no better than sentient weapons for the archangels of hell, this one was extraordinary_. His earthly manifestation was beautiful as all demons tended to be. John had chosen a less flamboyant manifestation, looking like someone’s dad in his low-budget clothes, and holding his useless cane. The demon seemed intrigued and predictably began to flirt. “The address is 221 B Baker Street,” winked the demon and John stood there in shock as he realised that he’d been invited in! _This demon wanted to reside with him! Astounding, simply astounding!_

John remembered to say farewell to the human Mike Stamford. He’d mentored Mike through medical school, providing the then much younger human with faith in himself that allowed him to succeed in school and move forward to have a successful career. Mike hadn’t been John’s Pet but it had been a very similar arrangement. John hadn’t found a Pet in a long time, centuries perhaps. The world hadn’t changed that much, technology and a number of people on the planet were essentially the only differences. People were exactly the same as they’d always been, intelligent, self-destructive, creative, and defiant. _Beautiful_. John loved serving on the earthly plane. He found humans to be quite interesting and over the aeons had perfected his manifestations to the point where he could serve in the mundane world in any number of capacities. In this life, he was a doctor, and for fun, a soldier as well. Even angels got bored.

John found himself on the steps of Baker Street being ushered in by a human by the name of Mrs Hudson. While she was occupied with introductions John spoke words she could not hear and caused their reality to splinter away, creating a starting point if what he was about to do ended in disaster. When he rejoined normal time John reached out with his grace and blessed her, incidentally fixing a small problem in her hip that was on its way to becoming an issue like her other hip was. It was too late for that one but it didn’t hurt to help a tiny bit. She had a lovely spirit and John was more than willing to sooth away a wound she hadn’t even noticed yet. He noted she’d been given a demon mark, a small one that protected her from other demons. They wouldn’t even notice her and if they did they wouldn’t recall her for long. John could see it clearly though no human would ever be able to spot the shimmer that hovered over her shoulders like a shawl. _She wasn’t a Pet either but the demon watched over her. How intriguing!_

“There’s another room if you’ll be needing it.” offered the old woman with a knowing grin. _The demon was smiling at John possessively, what did he think John was going to do? Angels and demons didn’t share accommodations easily. Still, John couldn’t leave a wild-card like this unbound demon to his own devices so despite his misgivings he moved in, taking the extra space offered._ Sherlock had already exposed John and proved that the cane was an affectation to make him seem even less threatening than his horrid jumpers did so John stopped using it. _It was awkward anyway_.

John was shocked when he destroyed a low-level demon for his new flatmate, terminating its manifestation and sending it back to its place of origin. That one had been disguised as a taxi driver and had made himself obvious when he started collecting the souls of those who were now technically suicides even though he’d tricked them. Both the pills he offered were toxic, as long as they played the game and chose they were guaranteed to lose. That demon had called himself Jeff and had gleefully swallowed the pills along with his victims, the poisons made of his own toxic essence ineffective against his celestial form. It wasn’t until the last moment before John realised that Sherlock was just as vulnerable as humans, he wasn’t the same class of demon as Jeff, their toxins would work on each other but Sherlock wasn’t even _trying_ to save himself. John couldn’t allow him to die, not when he had the power to stop it so he chose Sherlock over Jeff and struck.

John apologised profusely the second he got a private moment with Sherlock. This was when John discovered that Sherlock, as he called himself, considered himself unaffiliated with other demons and didn’t care if John had smote a fellow demon, “The Great Détente doesn’t work John, it failed millennia ago. Angels destroy demons, demons destroy angels, there’s an endless supply of us practically raining down onto the earthly plane. There’s nothing to do now except exist until the end of time so until then I am looking for ways to stave off boredom.” Sherlock had found himself a hobby, puzzles. The unsolved murder-suicides had caught his attention and Jeff had lost his corporeal existence on earth for it. Solving puzzles kept Sherlock from being part of the larger machinations most demons got involved in for something to do in the eternity they existed in. Sherlock had no patience for other demons and thought even less of them than John did. He was an enigma.

He was also a sly seducer, playing an innocent virgin when John knew very well the demon was anything but. He teased the angel day after day, revealing his flesh in little flashes, and coyly driving away the human women John tried to date to remain normal looking to the others. The music was very nearly his undoing. When Sherlock played the violin John felt himself soar, his wings extending and fluttering on their own. He couldn’t help being transported by it and the demon knew how it affected him. John snapped in frustration, “You’d think you wanted to fuck me or something. Demons and angels _don’t_ have sex.” John had taken many lovers during his life. He’d lived all over the earth, had existed with many different civilisations and found it easier to co-exist when he had a human mate.

“Oh yes they do, where do you think all the _fun_ creatures come from? Incubi? Vampyre? Even werewolves came from somewhere, they certainly weren’t made in our Father’s image.” Sherlock laughed. He was always so disrespectful when it came to speaking of the ranks above them. There was so much misinformation about creation, especially the belief that humans were alone in the universe. John always snorted when he heard _that_ one. _If only it were true then angels and demons wouldn’t need to roam the earth, forever protecting it from invasion from beyond. Humans had no idea how lucky they were that their Father was guarding them so well._

“Neither of us can produce a child between us.” retorted John. There were a lot of things angels and demons could do that humans couldn’t but two male spirits could not produce an entity together, no matter how hard they tried.

“That’s really just _more_ reason to have sex. No? Very well.” The flirtations increased. Sherlock went to Buckingham palace in a sheet, winking at John cheekily as he snarked at his _older brother_ , a bureaucratic and stiff demon who called himself Mycroft. He wasn’t as unusual as the being he referred to as brother though Mycroft was strange enough. They weren’t technically related but they were the same class of demon, intelligent, wily, and manipulative. Mycroft even had a Pet who didn’t realise he was being kept. Sherlock had introduced John to DI Greg Lestrade early on and John could see the mantle about the silver-haired man’s shoulders. The human couldn’t see the brand on his shoulder, an unholy handprint that all other wanderers could see that made it impossible for them to toy with the Pet. He wasn’t protected from other humans but for some reason Mycroft found the DI to be intriguing enough to keep for the rest of Lestrade’s human life.

John let his manifestation live a simple life, learning to balance the needs of his body against the demands of keeping the demon in check. It seemed to enjoy being shepherded though John hadn’t intended to do so; it was his nature just as it was Sherlock’s nature to be obstinate and frustrating as well as willful and reckless. It kept John engaged and for the first time in ages, he wasn’t bored. Sherlock’s antics were aggravating but they still made John feel like he was doing something worthwhile because they ended up helping humans, though that was merely a by-product of The Work, Sherlock just liked puzzles, that he put criminals behind bars or solved the most difficult cases didn’t even interest him. He just liked figuring things out using only the skills his manifestation was limited to. He never cheated, not ever, there would be no point using his supernatural gifts to unravel the problems; that would defeat the purpose of pretending to be human to begin with. Sherlock only stayed in London because that’s where Mrs Hudson was and the demon had a sweet-tooth for her rum cake. He was crazy for it, all wanderers had similar weaknesses. John’s was tea which thankfully something he could get nearly anywhere. John did all the human interfacing for the demon and the world was probably better for it.

The demon Sherlock was devilishly attractive and John felt himself weakening.

He attracted another demon; John wondered what it was about London that drew so many high-level beings. This one, the one sometimes called Moriarty, was dangerous. He had completely abandoned any affiliations and played with humanity like a petulant child, hurting randomly, destroying recklessly, and taking needlessly. He needed to be stopped, even Sherlock saw that so reluctantly they began to work in accord and it was breathtaking for the angel.

Once he gave up trying to redirect Sherlock’s dark energies he found that the demon was able to synchronise his abilities with John’s and they worked as a perfect unit. The feeling of the light and dark parts of one another as they fit together like lock and key was heavenly. John had never felt so powerful, so pure. Sherlock had been similarly startled but his grin had been ferociously self-satisfied as if he’d known this had even been a possibility. _Had angels and demons ever tried to do this before? This wasn’t like copulation; this was more encompassing than the mere joining of flesh. Astounding!_

The other demon might have been petulant but he was also devious and without any sort of hindrance to stay his impulses he danced a bloody dance around Sherlock and John, calling to Sherlock’s darker nature, urging him to cast aside his allegiances and join him. John never forgot Sherlock’s words, “Oh, I may be on the side of the angels, but don't think for one second that I am one of them.” The demon fell, allowing his manifestation to perish, banishing him from the mortal realm. His sacrifice banished Moriarty and ended his existence in the realm as well. Two demons were gone from earth and the angel had lost someone he now considered a friend.

John _grieved_.

He folded his wings and closed himself off into a tight little shell until he shone no longer and was merely human. He’d stopped too late; his manifestation was now past its peak, John hadn’t bothered repairing it too much but he didn’t care any longer to fix it further. He missed his friend, missed the games they played. Now time stretched endlessly once again without his distraction and John grew listless.

His sister came to him, “John you’ve got to snap out of this.”

“Go away, Harry.” She wasn’t hiding her grace at all and without asking she healed his manifestation entirely, erasing the hurt he had done to it while he was in mourning, “I hate it when you do that.”

“I only have to do it when you get ridiculous. Get up. I have something for you.” John got out of bed for the first time in days and stood in front of his sister. She wasn’t actually his sister any more than Mycroft had been Sherlock’s brother but the relationship was the same. John’s wings were the reddish brown; Harry kept calling him a ginger though most humans saw John’s hair as sandy-blond. Harry’s wings were silvery grey with shots of brown so John knew the inky black feather she held out to him was not from her, “He sent it to you, it’s a token.”

“Why to you and not directly to me?” wondered John. _A token was a serious thing, a very serious thing indeed_. Harry looked solemn, “I haven’t done anything, I swear.”

“Like I care if you shag a demon or not, for crying out loud, John, is your head still back in the pre-Flood era? Angels and demons hook up all the time, what do you think Clara is?” John was startled. _Was Harry with Clara? A demon? Was his sister consorting with a demon?_ “You’re always such a puritan. We are love _personified_ John, of course, I took a lover, only this time I found one that isn’t going to die on me in a handful of years. Clara will be with me for eternity if we can work things out. You can have that too, clearly, he wants it. For fuck’s sake John he sent you a _remex_! You are literally the wind beneath his devilish wings!” John examined the token; it was indeed a flight feather from Sherlock’s left wing. Sherlock wanted to forge a bond with John, a bond would allow him to return to the realm.

John didn’t hesitate any longer. Muttering a few words, he allowed his wings to appear and without flinching plucked the same feather from his wing. In its place he lay Sherlock’s feather and smiled as it fit neatly in with the rest of the feathers as if it had been made for John, the stark blackness still showing up distinctly against the much lighter hue of John’s wing. John held his feather in front of his face. Closing his eyes John drew the image of Sherlock forward, recalling each and every part of the demon before he whispered the demon’s name and allowed the feather to drop.

It never touched the ground. It vanished before it passed John’s knees and John smiled again when he felt the bond slip into place as Sherlock took John’s feather as part of his flesh. As simple as that and they had linked themselves together. Harry’s mouth was hanging open, “I thought you’d use it to just go _find_ him! I didn’t expect you to…John… _you just married a demon!_ ”

John closed his eyes and ignored the earthly plane for a timeless moment. He smiled and Sherlock smiled too, “John.” His eyes fluttered open and his husband was standing directly in front of him now, his back to Harry, his eyes boring into John’s. Sherlock wore the same wicked grin that John had missed so much, “You are always such a surprise.” Sherlock’s inky black wings flared out, encircling both of them in warm darkness and privacy. “You didn’t need to do this.”

“No? I can take my feather back if you want,” said John easily and felt Sherlock’s wings tremble with outrage.

“Never, John. You are mine now, forever, my perfect half.” The darkness flooded over John and when it dissipated they were back at 221 B Baker Street. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. How did you manage to get me your remex?” John stroked Sherlock’s feathers, an intimate caress that only he was allowed now.

Sherlock shivered and gasped, his eyes dropping closed for a moment, the second shiver of pleasure chasing the first. “Mycroft. He owed me a very great favour so I made him come to me in the nether realm to receive it. He found Harry and invoked a peaceful meeting based on our potential kinship. She accepted the meeting and then, my feather.

“She told me to basically jump you.”

“Your sister is a radiant being, a true angel.” Sherlock purred, wrapping his long pale limbs around John, “You know,” he said with a leer, rubbing his chest against John’s, “This flesh is only minutes old, it doesn’t get purer than that. Want to defile me, John?”

John laughed, “I’ve never been with a demon before.”

“ _Three Millenium Watson?_ I find that hard to believe!” Sherlock seemed to enjoy teasing his new spouse, “I’ve heard that you fuck like a demon. I have to say, I’ve been terribly curious. You know, it’s difficult to gain my attention normally.”

“Does that mean I have to get your attention _unusually_?” Now it was John’s wings that shrouded Sherlock and the room filled with a burst of brilliant light filled with colours. When it faded, they were high above London and laying on a cloud, both men entirely bare.

“My, my, John, aren’t you the naughty one.” Sherlock sounded entirely approving, “I don’t mind the entire city seeing my arse as you fuck the hell out of me.”

John laughed at Sherlock’s lame joke, “It will be utter heaven, I promise.” Now Sherlock was smiling and John had to kiss it, “You are ridiculously beautiful, you know.”

Sherlock shrugged, spreading his wings out and laying back, “You are dreadfully plain. You are so regular that you are the bloody standard for male beauty. _That’s_ ridiculous. My looks are just an obvious façade. Yours is a subtle one. Whatever works to keep the humans happy, right?”

John knelt over his impish lover, “I’m more concerned about making you happy. You’ve wanted this for a while now.”

“Since I first saw you, John,” Sherlock was entirely honest right then, “I knew. I knew it. I looked at you and I had to have you. I’ve never been drawn to another like I’ve been drawn to you. I barely recall the face and name of the last person I bedded because it wasn’t important to me. I recall every instant we’ve been together, my lovely John, every single moment.

John kissed Sherlock, their wings folding around each other as the cloud held them as safely as any bed. Both of them were well versed in physical love and it quickly became a competition to see who could make the other sigh more. Their kisses became exploratory soon enough, each being now trying to taste and lick the other until John pinned Sherlock down on this back, enjoying the broad splashes of feathers that the demon’s fully extended wings made. Sherlock lay beneath John, shamelessly spread out to show John what he was offering, “Very beautiful.”

Sherlock’s wings trembled, his feathers making a dry rustling sound as they shook. John’s mouth was on him, the angel’s head bobbing languidly. The demon’s eyes seemed to glow and all the colours contained within shone like dark stars. John sank deliberately through the cloud to access different parts of Sherlock, licking and sucking tender sensitive areas until his pale lover was moaning softly. When John’s tongue slipped inward, Sherlock reached behind himself and used his hands to hold himself open, bracing his feet and rocking his hips gently, riding John’s tongue slowly. “Please…please, John, I don’t want to wait anymore.”

John was suddenly kneeling between Sherlock’s still spread thighs, “It will hurt, my love. You’re not prepared yet.”

“I’m not human, my love, my corporeal body is made of infernal stuff, hurt it, please. I love it. Just take me, John, you can’t damage me and if you do, I’ll probably just get you to do it again.” Sherlock clearly wanted nothing more than for John to just be inside him.

“I should have realised you’d enjoy pain.” John smiled tenderly at his lover, “You’re right. You are not human. I have always had to be so careful with them. They are so fragile.”

“Breakable.” Sherlock sounded regretful and John leaned over to kiss him, “I don’t want to be alone forever, John, I want you to be with me. I want to feel things with you. I want to understand things with you. I want to meet the end of eternity with you by my side.”

John didn’t hesitate any longer. He arranged them so that Sherlock’s hips were on his lap, his back on the floor so that John could remain kneeling yet was still able to reach Sherlock properly. “Do you want it all?” Part of John’s choices in the past had been to keep the size of his manifestation on the smaller side, simply so that he didn’t harm his human lovers who could only accept so much. That didn’t matter with Sherlock. John’s excitement grew when he realised that he didn’t need to hold back at all. Sherlock could survive anything John did to him, “Do you want the whole thing?”

“Every inch John, every last glorious inch.” John allowed his earthly manifestation to fade away, leaving only his angelic body behind. He was larger, broad shouldered. His muscles were hard, and the erection he was now pressing against Sherlock’s hole could easily be mistaken for a good part of someone’s arm. Sherlock did the same, allowing his demonic body to fully manifest. He was taller and leaner, almost gaunt and paler, nearly the colour of milk. His hair was still curly and dark but now there were licks of copper in it, hints of flame in the black. His teeth were sharper and his eyes even more slanted but the colours remained the same, “John, you blind me with your beauty. Truly, you are perfection, my celestial soldier.” John bucked hard, forcing nearly half of his cock into Sherlock who shouted happily, “More, John, just like that.” John did it again, needing four full thrusts in order to fit himself into Sherlock’s body.

“Ride me,” John found their positions reversed in a blink. Sherlock hid his wings away, sitting on John’s hips, his long lean body twisting and bowing as he pleasured himself on John’s body. John could almost see pushing Sherlock’s too lean belly out each time he seated himself entirely, and the demon seemed to be doing his best to destroy himself upon it.

John flipped them over again, “How many times can I make you come, Sherlock?”

“As many times as you want.”  John let Sherlock’s legs fall around his sides and braced himself, “I’ve learned a few things about human anatomy.”

“So have I,” bragged the demon, “If I tilt my hips like this…”

“And if I push just like this…”

It turned out that it was a _very_ nice move indeed because Sherlock suddenly tensed, “Too fast, it’s too fast.”

“You said as many times as I wanted.” John was relentless. He kept Sherlock in place, smiling down at his spouse who was writhing and attempting to stave off orgasm. “I want to make you come so many times, you’ll beg for me to stop.”

“Won’t…happen…Watson!” Sherlock definitely wasn’t begging to stop. He was gripping John’s shoulders with his hands, his body bent nearly in half so that his feet waved in the air with each thrust. “John!” As soon as the demon cried out his husband’s name, he began to orgasm. John didn’t stop thrusting and within a few minutes, Sherlock was stroking his already-hard-again-penis. “Please, John. _More!_ ”

John gripped Sherlock’s hips and began to move slower and with greater deliberation. Now the demon was squirming as his body learned to accommodate being over-sensitive with his recent orgasm and the quick lead up to his second orgasm. “Sherlock, that’s it, my little devil, just like that.” John sounded both soothing and teasing as he fucked his lover. He was enjoying this immensely. He hadn’t had unfettered sex in aeons. His last celestial lover had been another angel but it had been a temporary thing, pleasurable but emotionally distant. This was so different. With each thrust, John felt himself become a bit more Sherlock’s and knew that the same was happening to the demon. John noticed that Sherlock’s re-displayed wings had silvered at the tips on his primaries and that the tips of his secondaries were also becoming lighter in tone.

John let his wings curl over Sherlock once again, noting how many now looked like they’d been dipped in the blackest ink. He smiled, glad of the indications signifying their union. Sherlock was his perfect opposite, the best match for him. They would be in love with each other far beyond the end of time, he knew it, “It’s happening, John!” Sherlock was fisting himself as John moved with greater deliberation. Sherlock’s body was so tight around his, and John could see the micro-tears that healed themselves again and again as he tore into Sherlock’s body repeatedly, “John!” Sherlock second orgasm was as beautiful as his first and as beautiful as his third, and then his fourth, and fifth, and sixth. When John caused Sherlock to orgasm a seventh time he could see that the demon was finally reaching his limit. With a smirk, John let himself go just a little bit harder and Sherlock finally began to protest, “John. I’m so full. John. It’s so much. John, you’re so good at this. John. I don’t think I can manage one more. John. I’m still high from the last one. John, please John. I don’t…I want…oh…John!” Sherlock wrapped his arms, legs, and wings around John so tightly that all light disappeared, “Come inside me, John Watson, give me your blessing.”

A storm had rolled in beneath them. Thunder roared and lightning made shows in the skies but did not strike the earth below. They lay on their bed of mist and electricity, their bodies moving together frantically. “I love you, Sherlock,” whispered John, “I will not exist without you.”

Sherlock’s eyes grew wide as John made his vow. Their wings tangled tighter still, even their feathers mixing together in places as they struggled to increase their union, “There is no place above or below where I will not want to be with you.”

The storm howled as John found his release mere moments before Sherlock came one last time. Their cries were swallowed up by the wind, their ecstasy expressed in the riot around them.  When the winds finally died down and the thunder and lightning faded away, they lay there on the mist laughing and kissing one another, “Good thing mortals can’t see this.”

“It was an exuberant display I have to admit it.” Sherlock was on his belly now, kissing his way over John’s sweaty chest. “That was quite the first time.”

“I didn’t want you to forget it easily, we have a long stretch in front of us.” John kissed Sherlock’s temples and ran his hands over the new shades of Sherlock’s wings. They were even now, part light, part dark. “I didn’t expect this.”

“Do you suppose more angels and demons will bond as we have?” John shrugged. That was the concern of others. He had everything he wanted to worry about right there. Slowly they drifted back to 221 B Baker Street, invisibly returning to their mortal domicile and shrouding themselves in their human flesh yet again. Smiling, they went to visit Mrs Hudson, informing her of their union. When they returned to their rooms, they enjoyed hot cups of tea, settling back on their old sofa, and quietly discussing how to best protect the city they loved best. Their duties were ancient but because of the love they shared, neither would ever have to serve alone ever again.


End file.
